'Oh! oh!' I heard, 'why was I made?
why can't I die?
Oh, what have I to live for?
No one cares for me only to get my work.

And I feel sick; who cares for that?
Work as long as I can stand, and then fall down and lay there till I can get up.

No mother, father, brother or sister to care for me, and then it is, You lazy nigger, lazy nigger--all because I am black! Oh, if I could die!' "I stepped into the barn, where I could see her.

She was crouched down by the hay with her faithful friend Fido, and as she ceased speaking, buried her face in her hands, and cried bitterly; then, patting Fido, she kissed him, saying, 'You love me, Fido, don't you?
but we must go work in the field.' She started on her mission; I called her to me, and told her she need not go, the hay was doing well.
"She has such confidence in me that she will do just as I tell her; so we found a seat under a shady tree, and there I took the opportunity to combat the notions she seemed to entertain respecting the loneliness of her condition and want of sympathizing friends.

I assured her that mother's views were by no means general; that in our part of the country there were thousands upon thousands who favored the elevation of her race, disapproving of oppression in all its forms; that she was not unpitied, friendless, and utterly despised; that she might hope for better things in the future.